Nana, The Spring
by KaterPotater
Summary: REVAMP! An extremely moral vampire loses her last bit of humanity to her worst enemies, and her struggle to deal with her change. Read and review.
1. Morals

REVAMP!!!! Aren't you proud? I was reading this over and was struck by how much better I could do. So I'm editing the whole story. New stuff is being added and old stuff is being fixed. Because you love me, and I love you. Plus I'm upping the rating because, this way, I'll have more room to work with.

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Propter vitam vivendi perdere causas.

To lose the reason for living, for the sake of staying alive.

There is a strict code for vampires. It's not really written, it's just known. Always wear black or red, never get noticed, and stay as far away from humans as possible, unless feeding. You are to be cruel and unforgiving, not to mention you must have a scolding wit. These rules have been accepted and followed for thousands of years.

But she was different. Nana, the name brings shivers down respectable vampires spines. She was ancient Hawaiian, one of the first women to learn hula. She was changed a thousand years ago by Jager, a respected Egyptian vampire, who was seduced by the gentle sway of her hips as she prayed to her gods. Even the most respectable vampires are often not ruled with their heads. It is widely believed that Jager knew that Nana would never be "normal" but changed her anyway. There was no such thing as love between vampires, but this was as close as it would get.

She wasn't meant for the night. No one, save Jager, knew her vampire name; she used her real name. She, horror beyond horrors, was going to college at Potsdam in New York. Her clothes were brightly colored and she was always smiling. Humans were her friends. She was constantly being seen by better vampires with them, roaming the streets and laughing, even eating human food. Nana was always forgiving and was witty only in human ways.

She brushed into Las Noches in New Mayhem. Wearing a bright blue and green short skirt and a white cap sleeve shirt. She clashed horribly with the red strobe lights swirling around. The humans were drawn to her, even though they could feel her dark aura of vampirism. The vampires in the room slink from her, abashed by her light clothes.

She looked like a vampire. She had a black halo of hair and dark orbs of space for eyes. Her skin wasn't the porcelain of most vampires, but the coffee and cream color of her people. But her personality was so human. She had morals and was dressed so brightly, like the sun.

There were few vampires in the club. But the ones that were there hated Nana with a passion. Fala sat cross-legged on a table with Jesikah and Gabriel flanking her, nearly blending together with their black clothes. They sat drinking from an unmarked bottle, with contempt shinning on their faces as they watched the beam of light glide easily from one human to another.

"I could just rip her undead heart from her chest with my bare hands!" Fala growled, crushing the glass in her hands.

"We all do, that SingleEarth excuse of a vampire," Gabriel rumbled over the pounding music.

Jesikah was the only one that seemed happy to see the Hawaiian. "I'm glad she's here. I've been wanting to do this for a long time," she smiled. "Hey, Nana, over here!"

Fala and Gabriel looked at her almost as they had looked at the sunny girl. "Trust me guys," Jesikah explained, "I'm just going to crush her soul and that horrible humanity." She smiled, almost casually. The other two seemed satisfied, but still suspicious.

Nana turned to them and smiled. Jesikah grinned and waved, beckoning her over. She waved gracefully towards them, swinging her hips lightly. "I can see why Jager changed her," Gabriel whispered to the girls. They smacked him lightly, which would be face numbing to a human.

"Hi y'all," Nana said happily to them. She took the bottle they were passing around and took a drink. Her cheeks were slightly flushed.

"Feeding well, I see?" Fala asked, venom spitting from her eyes but her voice expressionless, a trick she was quite proud to own. "Still going to death row for you prey?" It was common knowledge that Nana only killed the guilty.

"More of a pity killing, actually. He was perfectly innocent but I couldn't see him die like they were going to kill him," she shrugged it off calmly. "So, anything I can help you with?" She knew that they didn't like her one bit and would only talk to her when they wanted something. Sometimes, when they were in an especially vile mood, they would torment her to bring her human friends to Las Noches. But Nana, being the forgiving soul she was, always came back to listen to what they said when they called her.

"Actually, yes," Jesikah leaned forward. "How do you plan to stay alive?"

Nana looked from one face to another, confusion and ugly mistrust cluttering her pretty face. "I'm sorry, I don't think I understand," she said, her smile faltering.

"It's a tough world out there, Nana," Jesikah continued. "What do you plan to do when you need to kill to stay alive?"

Nana's smile returned and she sighed the question off. "That'll never happen to me. Human couldn't hurt me and I don't need to kill them to make them stop."

Gabriel started to catch on to what his female counterpart was up to. "But what if a vampire hunts you, or a witch, or a hunter? What then, my little sunbeam?" he asked, standing up and circling her. He draped one of his arms around her waist and the other on her shoulders, planting a tiny kiss on her neck. She tried to push him off but he held fast.

"Would you kill then?" Fala questioned, taking her place on Nana's right side.

"No," she said, stubborn in her morals. "You underestimate the temperament of vampires. You underestimate me." She continued to struggle under Gabriel's arms but he still held, whispering for her to be still.

Jesikah huffed in disgust. What was this one talking about? "No, no my dear spring. You overestimate our kind. We must kill to survive, and you need to learn that or you'll be killed yourself."

Nana's eyes were losing their life, losing her soul slowly to these creatures. But one hope remained; Jager. "Jager would save me. I've survived this long, haven't I?" she stated almost haphazardly. "Perhaps I am the future of our kind."

The other three cringed at the thought of them being like her. But they continued to relentlessly torture her and pollute her sunny exterior. "Jager isn't here now," Gabriel whispered in her ear. He brushed his teeth on her neck. The woman followed his lead, scraping their teeth on her tan neck, Fala especially hard. Fala had been Jager's lover before Nana had gone to Egypt with him.

She instantly reacted, jabbed her elbow first into Gabriel, than at Fala and Jesikah nearly at the exact moment. They all fell back, laughing at each other. Fala, the more reckless one, got up and began teasing the girl, testing her limit.

Nana snapped, already being stretched and strained to their games. She lounged at Fala, fangs bared. The other was expecting this and quickly moved out of the way. Nana fell fangs first into a human, killing him on impact. The smell of blood overpowered the four vampires. They fell upon the body and ravished it dry in a matter of seconds. The others stood when it was over, wiping their mouths of blood. Nana remained on the floor. She was stunned, holding the limp body of a man in her arms. She had killed.

Her three harassers laughed loudly. "We told you, Nana," Fala chanted in a singsong voice, disappearing as she finished.

"Our future my ass," Jesikah grumbled, following the first.

Gabriel remained behind for a minute, walking over to the poor helpless girl. His kill had been just as horrible to deal with and he knew her pain. "It's for your own good, my love," he said, barely above the sound of breathing, before slowly walking out. He turned at the door, staring through the small crowd at Nana, rocking and crying over this human she never had met before. 'Just a kid,' he thought before entering the sun.

The Hawaiian was left in the dark, surrounded by people, alone for eternity.


	2. Meeting

This has my REVAMP stamp of approval.

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She loved the light more than anything. She was always playing on the sunny beaches, away from the dense growths in the forest. Her face was enough to light up the world. Everyone knew she was special; she was different. Nana, they called her. The spring had finally arrived.

Her parents couldn't have any more children after her. She nearly killed her mother in a wave of blood during childbirth. But her mother forgave her immediately. She took the girl into her arms and nuzzled the baby to her. Everything was forgiven with Nana. She was smiling the moment the sun hit her face.

One time, when she was very small, she ventured into the forest, looking to help find some nuts for the feast that night. It was a very special feast for Pele, the goddess of fire and of the forest. Nana had wanted to help so bad she kept annoying the elders. They sent her off on a menial task to keep her out of the way. Even if she was beautiful, she was still an annoying child. She crawled under the dark green trees, trying to find anything of importance. It made her uneasy to be so deep into the forest. The sun was hard to see and she was very much alone. Suddenly, a darker shadow fell across her back. Slowly, she turned to look at the source, blocking her path back to the beach.

A man stood there. But he wasn't like the men Nana was used to. His hair and eyes were black, yes. But he was shorter than her father and his skin was much paler. He was dressed funny too, wearing only a white skirt. He looked very rich, with black liner on his eyes and many jewels. He was very young though, too young to have so many beautiful jewels around his neck. Jewels that Nana had never seen before, surrounded by a yellow metal that shined in the half-light.

He bent down to met her eyes. He smiled, showing impossibly white teeth. Just as he was opening his mouth to speak, Nana beat him to it. Even though he was an elder, he was nothing she'd ever seen before and called for a question.

"'O wai kou inoa?" she asked in her childish yet harmonious voice. "What's your name?"

The man made no reply. In fact, he looked confused, brows furrowed together like a storm cloud, like he didn't know what she was saying. She tried again, "'O wai kou inoa? 'O Nana ko'u inoa," she repeated and added, "My name in Nana." He still looked absolutely confused.

She wasn't used to an elder not understanding. The older people usually said words Nana had never heard before. A child having a bigger vocabulary then their parents was unheard of. She turned her head to one side and pointed at herself, saying, "Nana." A wave of understanding washed over the beach of his face.

He pointed at himself and whispered, "Jager." He had an accent, a very strange accent, but Nana smiled anyway. Even his name was foreign too. Everything about Jager was just foreign. She offered him a nut that she had found earlier. He took it from her hand and popped it in his mouth. He smiled and reached out to touch her face.

The touch was so cold but tender, like a brush with the seawater. She leaned into his hand as he leaned down to kiss her forehead. So cold and so soft. She closed her eyes and let his lips travel down to her nose, her cheeks, and her mouth. His kisses didn't stop at her lips. They continued down to her chin and then her bared neck.

It didn't hurt, his fangs sliding into her, raping her pure skin. She gasped but pushed into him. Her blood was hot on Jager's tongue, hotter than any other humans before. It was hard to pull away, too hard. But she was too young to die and Jager could sense that there was something important to happen to her, another time they'd cross paths. After what seemed like an hour, he pulled away. Nana fell to the forest floor, reeling from the loss of so much blood from her little body.

Jager didn't leave right away. He sat and looked at the little creature. He reached out and touched her wrist. The vein was so blue under her brown skin. Her skin was the same color as his used to be. But this was so far away and she spoke so strangely. Her clothes puzzled him. Everything about her was mysterious, from her language to how tall she was for her age. Or was she older than he thought she was?

Her pulse was still strong; thank the gods. He hadn't meant to do this to the child; Nana was her name. Sighing, he took an ankh, the symbol of life, from his necklace, laced a bit of braided leather from around his wrist through the eye of the pendent, and tied it around her neck.

Then he left.

Nana never forgot the strange man in the forest. She didn't go back to find him, but always watched the tree line; fingering his mysterious gift which she wore every day. She was waiting for him and he was watching her.


	3. Loss

This has the REVAMP stamp of approval.

When Nana became the ripe age for marriage, a tender age of fifteen, she was taken to the Volcano. That was where the great priests went to pray and give offerings to the goddess of fire and earth, Pele. No woman had ever been allowed to watch, let alone join the ranks of these high priests. But Nana was different. They took the "man in the forest, Jager" as a great god in human form and his gift as a show of his favor of this girl. She was to be the first woman at the Volcano, the first to learn the truly ancient ways.

The trip to Volcano took a very long time. They had to walk all the way around the island, over mountain passes and through rough weather. Unfortunately, the gods were not shining on the poor crew. A strange disease affected almost all the travelers. It would strike during the night. Small wounds would appear on their necks and they feel extremely tired, even after a full night's rest. But the feeling would pass by the next day and the small cuts would fade into nothingness extremely quickly. Only Nana seemed unaffected. The travelers took this as another sign that Nana was in the god's favor.

She watched the forest as they walked on the well-known path. A flutter of leaves here, a deeper shadow there, even a cold shiver throughout the pack of priests. Was her Jager following her to the Home of Pele? Or was it just her imagination?

They were going to Halema'uma'u, the crater where Pele, the volcano goddess, made her home. Priests were all men in this time; she would be the first priestess. They were required to learn the ancient dance of hula, which Pele directly sent to the priests after long hours of meditation. One mistake meant the dancer had forsaken the goddess and they were cast out, sent back to the village on the beach.

It was obvious when they were coming close. The land, once lush and green, became rocky and black. The volcano rocks were sharp and easily cut Nanas' feet. The priests, who walked ahead and avoided Nana, had skin tough like leather and even the harsh rock-glass didn't cut their feet. Finally the ocean came into view. The chief priest coldly greeted Nana at the bottom of the volcano and walked her around the makeshift village.

The priests lived in long wooden huts down in the forested area around the volcano. She was given her own hut, because she was a virgin and was to remain that way. Pele only talked to these who gave themselves fully to her. She was a jealous master and would not share her humble servants. Nana began her training in hula, in worship, in myth. She learned to push her hips in the motion of the sea, to go into trance to find the steps Pele commanded her to do.

Jager had followed her to the Volcano. He watched her grow up from the little girl in the forest to this young woman moving to live with men. She had grown up well. That little girl who was so tall was now even taller. She was thin, but ample where it was needed. Jager had never seen a girl quite like her, and Jager had seen a lot of girls.

But oh, when she danced! Never had he seen something so beautiful, so graceful. And what she wore! Those priests had it good! A young, beautiful, topless girl with dark tattoos over her legs and breasts, her body smelling of the ti leaf skirt, dancing in such a voluptuous way. Obviously, Jager had been born on the wrong side of the world.

One day, after Nana had spent hours practicing and finally retreated to her cabin, her legs sore and throbbing, Jager came to see her. He could hold off no longer. He had watched her sway her hips for many years and couldn't deny his want any longer.

She would have screamed if it weren't for the instant knowing. He looked almost exactly the same except his skin was paler and his eyes were emerald. And the air around him was different. It was darker, older, and wiser. As if he had aged a lot more than she in the same amount of time. But she knew it was he.

He smiled his impossibly white smile at her. She smiled back. He held out his right hand and caressed the pendant around her delicate neck, his eyes searching into hers, asking a question he didn't quite understand. Nana nodded at him, saying without words that she remembered. Jager looked into Nana's eyes, now tenderly, and sighed. It was like he was home staring into those innocent eyes. It was like the blood flowed in him once again.

"You can't understand me?" he sighed, disappointment showing in his every feature. She frowned, and shook her head, hoping that was the right answer, hoping she wasn't agreeing to something horribly stupid. "Hmm," Jager took his hand from her neck and put it to his head, scratching at his dark hair. Nana did the same to her own hair and laughed at him. His eyes strayed to her bouncing chest but quickly snapped back.

An idea came to the man. He pointed at himself and said, "I."

Nana repeated. "I."

He crossed his arms over his chest, "Love."

"Love," she whispered, forming the strange words thickly.

He pointed at Nana, "You."

"You," she grabbed his hand and held it to her face like he had so many years ago. "Aloha," she crossed her arms over her bare chest. "Love."

Jager leaned in to kiss her lips. She readily met him this time; hungry for the kiss to mean more than it did when she was younger. And this kiss did. It was heavier, more passionate, not the simple kiss of an adult to a child. This was the type of kiss that gave life meaning. It was a kiss that held a promise within its loving lips. It was a kiss that made Nana's knees go weak and her head to spin, forgetting everything except the feel of his body.

He spent the night in her little cabin.


	4. Migration

All right, here it is. Sorry it took so long, I had problems with translation and then my Microsoft Word program was being evil. Anyway, here it is. Sorry about the mini cliffie, and this is kind of a songfic to a migration prayer to Pele. If anyone has any ideas on what Nana's vampire name should be, I'd be glad to hear them.

Arden Kaylien: I'm glad you've taken an interest in my experiment. I hope you enjoy it.

ShadowBlaze: I decided to use your idea. So, this is my take on your idea. Thank you very much. Please enjoy.

Live went on as usual. Well, as usual as it could be, for the first female priestess who happens to spend her nights with a strange man that doesn't speak her language, who gets paler with each passing night.

Four years or so passed without obstruction to the couples nightly meetings. But one day, when Nana had to be up early to have her final test to become a true priestess, she didn't wake in time. Jager had spent the night, in her arms, after a session of lovemaking. She had no greater wish than to stay with him for all eternity.

The head priest came slowly to the little hut. He knocked. Both Jager and Nana were asleep. He knocked again. Still no answer. So he came inside.

His eyes nearly bulged out of his head. His little priestess, in the arms of a man! "E Nana, e ala 'oe!" he screamed, "Nana, wake up!" She finally woke up.

She tried to explain that this was the man that brought her the jewel that got her here in the first place, that she had married the god. He didn't believe her, dragged her by her hair to a tree over looking the red-hot waves of Pele's home. There, he tied her tight and left her to discuss her punishment with the other priests.

_No Kahiki mai ka wahine o Pele, Mai ka aina mai o Polapola_. The woman Pele comes from Kahiki, From the land of Polapola.

Nana cried tears as she watched the crater she came to love. They were going to kill her, she knew that. Throw her to Pele to decide her fate. She was going to die.

Mai ka punohu a Kane mai ke ao lapa I ka lani, Mai ka opua lapa I Kahiki. From the ascending mist of Kane, from the clouds that move in sky, From the pointed clouds born at Kahiki.

The priests came around noon. Not with food that Nana dearly wanted, but with word of her punishment. She was to be thrown to Pele, just as she had feared. Tomorrow morning, she would be thrown in that gushing sea of liquid rock.

_Lapa ku i Hawaii ka wahine o Pele, Kalai i ka wa'a o Honua-ia-kea, Ko wa'a, e Kamohoali'I, hoa mai ka moku._ The woman Pele was restless for Hawaii, Fashion the canoe Honua-ia-kea, As a canoe, O Kamohoali'i, for venturing to the island.

They left without giving her food or water. The sun beat down on her face, combined with the heat of the crater. Her throat was parched, it felt like sand.

_Ua pa'a, ua oki, ka wa'a o ke 'kua, Ka wa'a o kalai Honua-mea o holo._ Completed, equipped, is the canoe of the gods, The canoe for Of-the-sacred-earth to sail in.

The light played on the water. A pod of dolphins swam by. They were beautiful creatures, very elegant. Was this a sign from the gods? Would they send her such hope in her hour of death?

Mai ke au hele a'e, ue a'e ka lani, A i puni mai ka moku, a e a'e kini o ke 'kua. From the straight course the heavenly one turned, And went around the island, and the multitude of the gods stepped ashore.

She never quite understood those silly words before. But, then again, she never understood the gods either. Why would they be more concerned with just Nana's people when there was so many more out there? She didn't know where they were, but Jager assured her that there had to be more people, more out there.

_Iawai ka hope, ka uli o ka wa'a?, I na hoali'I a Pele a he hue, e._ Who were behind at the stern of the canoe?, The household of Pele and her company.

About mid afternoon, she started humming and tapping her feet, moving her head from side to side. She was seeing things by now. She thought she saw Pele herself raise from the lava, wink at her, and disappear. Nana continued humming.

_Me la hune ka la, kela ho'onoh kau hoe, O luna o ka wa'a, o Ku ma laua o Lono._ Those who bail, those who work the paddles, On the canoe were Ku and Lono.

A priest came back sometime after Pele. He had always been kind to her. He brought with him a coconut. Sitting next to her, he cracked it open and caught the juice in one half. Nana's hands were bound but he brought the juice up to her lips for her, forcing it down. Then, he shaved out the milk with a knife, feeding her as he went.

_Holo i honua aina, kau aku, i ho'olewa ka moku, a'e a'e Hi'iaka na'i au ke 'kua._ It came to the land, rested there, The island rose before him, Hi'iaka stepped ashore seeking for increase of divinity.

When the half of the coconut was eaten, he sat back and began on the other for himself. "Mahalo," Nana whispered hoarsely, "thanks."

"No hea mai 'o ia?" he asked, still looking at the crater. "Where is he?"

"No hea mai 'o wai?" she replied. "Where is who?"

_Hele a'e a komo I ka hale o Pele, Huahua'i Kahiki lapa uila._ Went and came to the house of Pele, The gods of Kahiki burst into lightning flame with roar and tumult.

"Ke kane," he tried again. "The man."

"Ka nohona Pele," she answered flatly. "The living Pele-of-the-sacred-earth."

Her friend laughed at her. Then, he got up and left, leaving his knife stuck in the tree next to her, just out of her reach.

Finally night fell. The molten rock in front of her lit the land around her and warmed her skin against the night air. Nana closed her eyes and tried to sleep on the hard ground. A sudden cool wind made her open her eyes.

In the pale, red light, Jager stood directly in front of her. "Jager!" Nana yelled in surprise. "Kokua! Help!" He still had no idea what she was saying. The only thing he did understand where the bonds. Bending down he played at the knots, trying to loosen them. They held tight.

He looked around for something, anything, to cut the ropes. There, glittering in the light, was a knife. Quickly, he took it in his hand and struck the bonds that fell immediately. Taking the girl in his arms, he transported her to his homeland; Egypt.

_Uila Pele e hua'i e, Hua'ina hoi e._ Lightning flames gushed forth, Burst forth with a roar.


	5. Scream

Back in Egypt. Sorry this is going so slow, I just had a really good idea for a later chapter, so I was working that out. It required a lot of research. I'll try to post one more time before Thursday, when I leave for a three week vacation.

Arden Kaylien: To answer your question, Nana was chosen as a priestess because everyone thought that Jager, who gave her that bracelet, was a god. So, Nana thought that too. She thought that Jager was really Pele in disguise. So that was the whole living Pele-of-the-sacred-earth thing. I hope that was helpful.

ShadowBlaze: As always, your encouragement it wonderful. I liked the idea for the "eternal death" name, except my Hawaiian dictionary doesn't have the word eternal, or death, so I, or we, need to think of something else. I avoided it this chapter, but the next chapter.

It was about mid-day in Egypt. But Nana didn't know that, the time of day or where she was. Jager had taken her into a building that was dark without windows. The floor was dirt and the walls made of stone. A girl sat in the corner, legs spread out in a "V".

She looked up when Jager appeared with Nana behind her. "You're back so soon. Have a fight?" she asked in an almost excited voice.

The man sighed. "No," he said, walking over to the girl. Nana stood where she was, in the center of the room.

The one in the corner jumped up and screamed, "You brought her here!"

"Shh!" hushed Jager, "calm down. They were going to kill her." Then after a pause, "I was thinking of changing her."

This sent the little girl lunging at Jager. Nana screamed and ran to pull her off. The girl jumped at her and wrapped her long fingers around her neck. "Fala, stop!" the man warned her.

Fala dropped Nana to the ground. "Fine, change her, but do it quickly, while I'm away," and with that, she disappeared.

Sighing, Jager dropped to his knee and whistled to the girl. Nana came obediently, huddling in Jager's arms. He pushed her head up to look in his eyes. He hadn't used this trick on her since was a child, but now it was for her safety. She bared her neck and he reached down to draw blood.

He took just enough to leave space for his own. Using the knife he had taken with him, he cut his wrist and pushed on Nana's mouth. She drank as if she had never had a drink in her life.

It felt like fire running down her throat. Horrible, burning fire. For a moment, she thought that her rescue was a dream and this was death. But she opened her eyes and saw Jager's turned face; his eyes shut tight, his wrist shoved into her mouth.

Her eyes widened. She pushed it away and screamed as loud as she could. Suddenly, to her horror, her voice faded away, Nana could feel the breath being sucked out of her lungs. Every beat of her heart was slower than it's former, until it stopped all together. Then, without another word, she fainted, hitting her head on a stone on her way down.

***

When she awoke, Jager was sitting, head bent, back against the wall, next to her. She reached out and touched his foot. His head shot up. In moments, his smile was in place, but his eyes revealed his true feelings, he was worried for her.

"Let's go feed," he said slowly, making a motion with his hand as to eat his hand.

Nana shook her head. She didn't want to eat. She was thirsty. So, with her hand she made a cup and drank an imaginary drink. Jager watched and nodded instantly. He'd have to teach her the language soon.

He reached out and took her hand. Then, by the magic that Nana still didn't understand, he took them to another dark, stone building. This time, it was a prison of some sort. Nana was scared off her wits. She held tight to Jager's hand.

They walked like that for a while, until they came to a prisoner that had much fight in him. Jager was pleased with him. Leaving the girl (he'd have to give her a new name soon), he walked over to him and touched his forehead. Instantly he quieted.

Jager lifted his head to meet the girl's eyes. Smiling, he beckoned her over, trying to make her feel safe with all the snickering inmates. When she was kneeling beside him, he slit the man's throat. Nana screamed with all her might. Immediately, Jager's hand quieted the yelp. Soon, the smell of blood almost overwhelmed the elder vampire. The newborn was gone in almost an instant.

She fed deeply, taking gulps of the life-giving libation. The power coursed through her veins, she could feel it moving there, pounding in her head. The smell took Jager too, causing him to push the girl from the man's throat as he drained the man himself.

Nana sat on all fours, watching. She had never seen a man die before, nor had she seen a...thing, like Jager. But it explained a lot. Jager was not Pele hiding in a body, but a demon, sent for her. Suddenly, her own sins came to mind. She had taken the illegal drink too. Grief overwhelmed her.

There, on the dusty, dirty floor of a prison, there, with Jager killing a man before her eyes, there, in only her grass skirt, Nana cried. She cried for her soul. She cried for Jager. But mostly, she cried for her humanity.


	6. Witch

Last chapter before I go away for three weeks. It's shorter than I wanted, and I don't know how well the ending fits. I just wanted to get the name in, as it will be useful in the next chapter. I've decided to just do like, snap shots of Nana's life, the most important parts. It'll be easier, and shorter, that way.

ShadowBlaze: Wow, you are more dedicated to this fic than I am, I think. I took your advice, again. You've never steered me wrong before.

He returned them to the room. Nana was in hysterics, crying and screaming in Hawaiian. Nothing he did could calm her down. Finally, he grabbed her by the neck, waving his free hand over her eyes. She calmed a little. A trick that would have easily knocked out a human barely made her calm.

Pushing her away gently, he turned and strode into an unseen door. When he came back, he had a white, linen dress in his hand. "It's Fala's," he whispered, "but I think it'll fit you." She just cocked her head and furrowed her brows.

Jager helped her out of the grass skirt, tossing it onto the floor. Then, he slipped the garment over her head. It was tight all around her nearly hourglass figure, her dark skin and tattoos showing through the thin material. He smiled at this. She'd have to beat down men with a stick.

"Now, what shall we do with this language problem?" he asked her, circling around her like a hawk over a mouse. She just smiled and began to hum softly. He circled a few more times before, snapping his fingers, he yelled, "I have it! We'll take you to the witch!"

The smile vanished from Nana's lips. Whatever he had said, it sounded very harsh. And painful.

He grabbed out for her, but she shrunk away from his touch. "Oh, come on," he growled, "let's get you the gift of tongues." He lunged and grabbed her wrist. The violent transportation took them to another stone building, this time with windows, the light poured in from all directions, reflecting off the beautifully painted walls. Nana loved it, Jager hid from it.

Instantly, a women joined them, stopping when she saw them but continued after seeing their faces. "You only come at night, Jager," she said flatly, trying to hide her feeling of joy at his visit.

"I need a favor," he stated plainly, getting right down to business.

That made the woman stop in her tracks immediately. "Taking up my offer on the Gift of Tongues?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes," he nodded, "but for her." He pointed at Nana, who was leaning out of the window, looking at the wonderful river view.

The woman huffed, "And why should I give this gift to her? She's probably just another one of your lovers turned vampire." 

Jager approached the woman. "She is, Amara. I found her on an island far away." Amara rolled her eyes. "There's life outside of our area."

"Oh you and your search for life on the outside..."

"She's a priestess," he breathed. "Think of all you'll have in common, once she knows the languages. She could help you translate all your ancient texts."

The thought of such a think made Amara smother her comment in her throat. She would be useful, no doubt. Maybe she could just give her the gift.

***

An hour or so later, Jager transported them back to their little house. "Can you understand me?" he asked nervously. This had better have worked, he thought.

Nana breathed, ready to yell, when she stopped herself. She understood Jager, for the first time in years. "Yes, I understand!" she squeaked, running to Jager and throwing her arms around his neck.

"So, what do you want to be renamed?" he asked, taking in the smell of her.

"Alaula. It means Light of Dawn," she laughed.

He pulled away. "No more light. How about the word for moonbeam? What's that?"

"Konane, but that's my sister's name," she looked down at the ground and walked off to a corner. She found a white flower, dieing alone. She picked it up and showed Jager. "What's this?"

"It's a Magdalene," he answered without even thinking.

"Our word for it is Makelina. That can be my name."

And so it was.


	7. Savior

Back from vacation. This chapter is a bit short, but it's more of an introduction to the next part of Nana's life. And this is not meant to offend anybody, it's just the thoughts of a teenage girl. It's fun to mix history (maybe) and fiction. Sorry for the delay, the next chapter is going to be grand though.

She spent many years in Egypt. Her days were filled between studies with Amara and hunting with Jager. She recounted many tales to the priestess that soon became her role model.

Then it was time to go. So, she left. Nothing told her to leave; she just knew it was time. Barely saying a farewell to Jager and Amara, she crossed over the Nile and moved on into the world beyond Egypt.

After several months in the desert, she found a large field of magdalenes. Relishing in the sweet scent of her reborn name, Makelina, she ran towards them, abandoning everything that she carried in the dust. She dived in them, letting the nectar run down her neck and legs until she was sticky with ecstasy.

The time past quickly as she rolled and laughed. Finally, near dusk, she settled to watching the sunset roll in. "'Ey!" yelled a course male voice. Nana shot up from her place. There, standing in the sand, holding her pack, was the source of the rude call. He had long hair and a scruffy beard. He was dressed in a loincloth. "This pack yours?" he asked when he saw the girl.

"Yes, it belongs to me. What say you to a roll in the magdalenes?" she asked in return.

The man began walking towards her while laughing out, "What do you take me for? Josh would have my head. Both of them." When he reached her, he held out his hand to hoist her up, which she gladly took. "I am Peter, the fisherman. Who are you?"

She smiled. "I am the Lady of the Magdalenes and the Queen of Spring."

This made Peter smile more broadly. Roughly, without grace, he bowed. "Well, Your Majesty, will you accompany me to the house of my savoir?"

"I'd be delighted."

Together they set off for Peter's house in a small fishing village near by. He didn't know what exactly to make of this woman. She was dressed in Egyptian clothes; the white cotton frock clung to her as if it were skin. But how could she be Egyptian, if she understood him? He knew that all of his kind had the gift of tongues, given by his friend's father, but he had spoken in his first language. Then there was the matter of that curious remark of rolling in magdalenes. Peter, therefore, decided that she was a whore of some kind, back from a business trip.

By nightfall they had reached Peter's house. He gently pushed Nana inside. The conversation ebbed a little but began anew when Peter joined.

"'Ey, Peter, caught us something good tonight, eh?" one man shouted. The others laughed. There must have been over twenty in the house, mostly men, sitting in a circle.

The only man not wearing a loincloth (covered in a white shaft instead) stood up very gracefully and walked towards them. "Whom have you brought for us to discuss with tonight, brother?" asked he, smiling sincerely at Nana, as if the prospect of an actual discussion was very appealing to him.

"I don't know how much discussing _I'm_ going to be doing tonight, Josh!" yelled the one who had talked first. He lifted his right hand and smacked the air in front of him while biting his lower lip in a sneer. The others laughed again, except Josh, who still smiled at the horribly embarrassed girl.

"Now, Mathew," he scolded lightly, "what have I told you about that? Besides, she's not working, she's our guest."

"I found her out by the magdalene fields," Peter whispered so only Josh could hear.

Josh's smile broadened. "So, Miss Magdalene, have you a name?"

Nana looked around. She didn't know which name to use. Luckily, a woman entered right at that moment and offered a goblet to Peter. "Thank you, Mary," he said politely.

"Mary!" Nana shouted. "That is my name, also." The also was just an afterthought, barely mumbled at all.

Without taking his eyes off of her (he had yet to), Josh announced, "Everyone, this is Mary of the Magdalene. She is now one of us."

Nana became Mary of the Magdalene and joined the group of Joshua bar Joseph, the Savoir.


	8. Temptation

Hi. Ok, I know this is controversial stuff, but if I knew it was going to get so many reviews, I would have done it sooner. I haven't gotten a lot of the reviews, actually, I've only gotten two, so I'm not going to say a lot. But shame on those people who have been reading and haven't reviewed up to this point.

ShadowBlaze: Thanks for sticking through with this story, even when it started getting "weird." I guess you are my most loyal reviewer. I've checked and double checked this chapter for spelling and accuracy. I hope you like it.

H2O Angel: Ok, I mostly did this to show just how moral Nana was, but also, it brings up an interesting point. We don't know a lot about Mary Magdalene, or Jesus in general. I guess I was trying to say that anything is possible, and, in case you're wondering for this chapter, the sexual tension was, most likely, really there. I thought it was important to show this, and it's a tragedy, I needed more suffering. And to all others who reviewed, thanks, your input, even flames, is really good to have. On with the show! 

They traveled a lot with Josh the Savoir. Some of the group left almost immediately, including Peter and that Mathew. The women and some of the less important men stayed with Josh. Some time later, the twelve returned.

The twelve, or apostles, were Peter, from the field, Andrew, his brother, James, who spoke rarely, John, James' brother, the very large brothers Philip (Phil) and Bartholomew (Bart), Thomas, the smallest, Mathew, the rude tax collector, James bar Alphaeus, who we called Al, Thaddaeus (Thad), the youngest, Simon, the zealous zealot, and Judas Iscariot, who hassled Josh about Nana constantly. It seemed like Judas didn't think a prostitute wasn't a good person to have around if the Romans were after you. Josh thought otherwise.

Many claimed Josh was the messiah, but he never came right out and said it. The twelve and Josh organized many talks about what was right and what was wrong, and love. Most of them ended in miracles. Soon, Nana grew to except that Josh was what everyone said he was.

Nana spent her time either with Josh and the apostles or with the other women. She thought of the women as her mothers and the apostles as her brothers.

They didn't always spend their time at Peter's house. Josh actually had tons of followers all over the country. He had a very rich follower, by the name of Joseph, who lived in Jerusalem. On the last day they were spending there, Josh announced quietly during dinner, "I'm leaving you all tomorrow."

Not a sound was heard afterwards. Peter looked up from his cup of wine. Mathew stopped a crude joke right in the middle. The others looked at each other and Josh. "My father has called me home," Josh continued, then took a quick sip of wine.

"Peter," he gestured at the man to his right, "you shall betray me three times before the cock crows."

Peter laughed, "You can't be serious, Josh. I'd never deny you, my Lord."

The other ignored him and preceded, "Judas." The man sitting half way down the table to Josh's right looked up. "You can just leave now. Go get your pieces." This was the first time Josh ever spoke with venom in his voice. Judas grudgingly got up and stormed out.

After an awkward pause, Josh sighed, "Let's go to the fields and pray." The twelve and Joseph got up and filed out the door. "Not you, Magdalene," he breathed forcefully. Nana stopped in her tracks. Never before had she been denied to follow Josh.

But dutifully she bowed to his will, muttering, "Yes, my Lord."

Josh stilled himself in the doorway. "You don't have to call me that." Then he left. To say the least, Nana was confused. What was going to happen that she couldn't see? She waited until she couldn't hear the men's voices anymore before she began to clear the table. Having finished her chore, she slept.

The next morning, the apostles came home in an uproar, waking Nana up instantly. "What's happened? Where's Josh?" she asked, grabbing Mathew by the shoulders.

Mathew seemed to be the only one who was relatively calm. "They took Josh, the Romans did," at this point, Simon interjected with something about dirty Romans, "to kill him. Peter and Joseph went to see what they could do."

Nana suddenly understood why she wasn't allowed. Josh didn't want her to be hurt in the capture, didn't want her to see him weak. They spent the day together, praying for Josh. We huddled in each other's arms until Peter and Joseph came back, Peter looking ash white.

"He was right," was all he said when asked what happened.

Thankfully, they got some news out of Joseph. "They're going to kill him tomorrow," he stated softly. "Judas has hanged himself." They felt that all hope had been lost.

But Nana had a glimmer of opportunity. After shaking the location of Josh's entrapment from Joseph, she ran out to the stair landing and promptly jumped out the window. She landed perfectly, ready to spring again if needed. Then she ran faster than anything towards the Roman prison. The doors were taller than any man alive, but Nana easily scaled them. She edged her way along the roof, looking in the windows until she found Josh. This was the first time she had used her powers since Egypt.

She called out to him. He looked up, amazed at what he saw, at whom he saw. "Stand back," she called out again. Then, imagining the room below her, she transported herself there. This, Josh didn't flinch at.

"You're a prophet too?" he asked innocently, not knowing what to expect.

Nana laughed, "No, I'm damned to Hell, I'm afraid."

Josh closed his eyes and sighed for a minute. "No you aren't, Mary. You have repented, it'll be all right," he came towards her as he spoke. She took him in her arms and clutched his body to her.

"You do not understand, Joshua," she moaned softly. "I'm a demon, not a prophet."

Josh pushed away, looking startled and afraid. "You've come to tempt me. I know it! You've been doing it since you came!" he shouted, hopefully not loud enough to attract the guards.

Nana put up her hands to quiet him. With one brush over his forehead, he was calm. "I'm not here to tempt you. I'm a vampire, I live off human blood, but I don't kill anyone," she paused for a bit. "I never die, Joshua. I can make you like me. So you won't die." She looked into his large brown eyes. Would he understand and take this as what it was, an act of love?

"Mary, I can't. I have to save mankind," he uttered, obviously still in shock.

Nana nodded her head and looked at the ground. "I knew that's what you'd say. But the apostles are so upset, I had to try." 

"It's not like they'll never see me again. I'll be back three days after I die," he mumbled. Nana laughed, then looked down as she flushed with embarrassment. Josh had never been wrong before. She saw Josh's feet move toward her as she laughed. One of his arms linked around her waist as the other hand pushed back her hair.

Finally, she looked up. Josh was very close to her and she was very aware of that. She put her arms around his waist also. Slowly, without word, Josh leaned into Nana's lips, gently leaving a kiss there. The kiss deepened towards passion.

Now they were both moaning and holding each other close. Suddenly, Josh broke the kiss and pulled away, retreating to the corner of the room. "You are trying to tempt me. I will not give in. Never!" he whispered with more force than a wave on the shore.

"Why didn't you let me go to the field with you and the others?" she asked the question that was playing on her mind since it happened.

"Because," he groaned, rocking back and forth with his hands in his hair, "I love you. Who knows what would have happened after they fell asleep! And I know you'd stay awake, you barely ever sleep."

Nana looked down at her feet again, twirling her hands together in front of her. "I love you, Joshua." Then, she transported herself back to the landing at the house.

She sat in the middle of the remaining eleven apostles and cried as they slept, their arms draped around her. Around midnight, Peter woke up and held Nana close to his chest, and lay back down again. With Peter's warm chest beneath her, she fell asleep.


	9. Undead

HOORAY! New chapter! This was a really hard chapter to write, to my surprise. Just one more with the apostles and then we're moving on to unknown territory. Enjoy them while they last.

ShadowBlaze: About the savior/savoir thing: I'm dyslexic in English, but not French, so words like that mix me up all the time. And about naming all the twelve, I wanted to kind of copy the Bible and I'm using them in the next chapter.

They killed him the next day. They strung him up on that cross like he was some toy. It disgusted Nana, rattled her to her very core. She was there when he died. He yelled, "Father, they know not what they do!" and died, just like that.

Nana screamed when it happened. She flung herself on the ground, crying, eating handfuls of dirt, before Peter and Simon picked her up and took her back to the house, kicking and screaming.

She spent three days in the dark upstairs, cuddled in the blanket that Josh slept in. Finally, Josh's mother, the original Mary, convinced Nana to go to Josh's tomb.

As they came near to the tomb, a wave of excitement washed over the women. Instead of a large boulder covering the entrance, an empty black hole greeted them. This meant one of two things: Someone was there, or Josh was right.

Nana ran towards the hole, Mary trailing behind her. She stopped outside and looked in. Hoping against hope, she entered and looked around, not having to wait for her eyes to adjust. She gasped, taking a step back into Mary. "What do you see, child?" she hissed.

"He's...gone!" the Magdalene gagged out. All that was left was the piece of cloth they wrapped him in. Her hands flew to her head, straightening the piece of fabric she had been using to keep her head out of the sun. _This couldn't be_, she thought. _He'd have to be a demon._ Her eyes grew wide as she looked behind her. _Or a prophet._

Josh, in all his glory, came striding up to Nana and his mother. He was smiling and looked pleasant, almost content. "Ah!" he joked as he drew closer. "My two Marys. I should have known." He reached down and kissed his mother on her cheek. She looked visibly flushed and startled, but not displeased.

"Now, mother," Joshua said calmly, "go tell the apostles that I will met them at Joseph's house. Quickly, I will be there soon!" Mary ran off back in the direction they had come, leaving Josh and Nana very much alone.

"Magdalene," Josh whispered as he pulled Nana into his arms. "I told you I'd get out of it." Nana laughed into his ear, even though Josh was cold in her arms. But she was probably cold in his too.

"Do you have to go back?" she asked. She knew the answer already, and didn't wait for the reply. "Then you didn't truly get off, now did you?" This time Josh laughed. It was a sad laugh though, as if the answer was no.

He took her hand and they walked off in the direction Mary had run off in. "How are my apostles taking it?" he asked loudly, politely, like he hadn't just thrown his arms around this girl.

She eyed him out of the corner of her eye. "What," she inquired, "your death? Well, most are taking it well. Thomas doesn't think you're coming back, but most are all right."

Again, Joshua laughed. "I knew about Thomas. I was talking more about the fact that you're undead," he drawled. It was taking ever ounce of his composure not to spit in her face and demand that the demons leave her body. She was possessed, but she didn't act like it.

"I haven't told them," she murmured. She didn't want her only friends abandoning her because she was different. She didn't want to see their faces fall. She was everything they stood against.

The other chuckled. "Oh, my Magdalene, they will not leave you behind. They love you. They will be wary at first, of course. It's to be expected. But you will become something great to the cause. Trust me," he said around his smile.

The city was in sight by now. Peter was rushing towards us. He dropped down to his knees upon meeting Josh's eye. "Sweet Lord," he mumbled, "he did it."

***

Peter led Josh and Nana back to his house, back to headquarters. Mary, Josh's mother, made a feast for us, though Josh himself declined. They ate well into the night, until Nana was actually beginning to laugh at Mathew's jokes.

At about that time, Josh stood and proclaimed, "I told you I'd be back!" to much cheer and salutes. Thomas hung his head; he had already been branded as the doubter. "I need to tell you something about our little Magdalene tonight."

Mathew laughed. "Finally going to give her to us, huh Josh?" he scuffed. Al and Thad laughed with him, while Bart and Phil, the two thug brothers, punched them in the shoulder.

"No, no, no, I'm afraid not, Mathew. She's a demon," he said softly as he sat down. The room was silent again as the remaining twelve stared at her.

Uncomfortably, Nana stood and coughed before responding, "I'm not a demon, just undead. I'm a vampire. It's nothing to be afraid of. Just think of me like Josh, except I can't ever die." She waited for their reactions.

"So," James, Peter's brother, questioned slowly, looking very confused, "you're like Josh?" Nana nodded. Then the room exploded into claps. They obviously thought being like Josh was a good thing.


	10. Cage

Hi! Sorry it took so long, I've been REALLY busy. I put Jager in this one because, frankly, I don't know what I'm going to do from here on out. So, it might be slow goings.

ShadowBlaze: Sorry about the changing views, my other story is in first person and I jump between them a lot. I think I've fixed it in this chapter though. Thanks!

A tan figure rocked back and forward, clutching a limp body in her arms. Nana sobbed in the corner of Las Noches. All things she'd held dear and close hung limp and pale, like the poor man in her arms. Her face was inches from this human's, tears covering both them.

In another part of the bar, another tan figure appeared behind the bar. He laughed as girls screamed and giggled at his presence. Accepting a glass of something, he scanned the scene in front of him.

Out of the corner of his kelly eye, he saw Nana, his little priestess, hunched on the sticky floor in the corner. Her hair hung over her face, making a waterfall of beautiful black. Without even knowing it, his legs took him to her.

Easily, almost casually, he pushed the dead mortal onto the floor, effortlessly wrapping Nana in his arms. "What's wrong, wahine?" he inquired tenderly in her ear.

A wretched sob escaped her mouth once more. He called her a wahine, her own Hawaiian. "He's dead," she mumbled around her own tears. "I killed him and I didn't even mean to."

Jager chuckled into her hair. "Oh, Makelina, when will you learn?"

***

It was a dark night in Rome. Jager crouched over a shrieking man. The man timidly sat up and looked at the world, his eyes as sharp as lightning. "Welcome to the other side," Jager breathed into his face, grabbing his hand. Without another word, they were transported to the cages.

The cages. A place to hold the faithful that were to be killed for their believes. They were very full tonight, a tournament coming the next morning. Jager sent the man, his new fledgling, to feed on one in the cages. Usually he would watch, but something caught his senses. A slight tinkling brush on his aura sent his mind to one thing; another vampire was already here.

He walked silently through the rows of cages, trying to get closer. _It's one of mine,_ he thought in horror. Jager would hate to have to kill his own. He felt the aura tighten, straighten. They sensed each other. But unlike Jager, the other wasn't moving.

Suddenly, he came upon her, in a cage. She was bolt upright in a corner, watching, her eyes on his face. "Makelina?" he whispered, clutching the cold bars in front of him. Could this be his little fledgling?

Nana closed her eyes, nodding once very slowly. Jager breathed in very sharply. In a cage. Why wasn't she just escaping? "What are you doing here, little one?" Jager asked, cocking his head to one side.

Her head rolled along the bars. "Waiting," she whimpered. Her head made another pass on the bars. She was dressed in a very simple burgundy linen shaft, wrapped around the waist with a thin strip of raw silk. The silk was a gift from Peter when she went to see him in the East.

After Josh had died, the remaining apostles found another to replace Judas, a man named Mark. Then, James died, pushed off a temple wall. To replace him, Peter found a revolutionary named Paul. After a few misunderstandings, the group split up to spread the Word to the world. Nana, being the fastest transportation of the time, sent letters between the apostles.

Jager nodded slowly. Without even a word he was in the cell, holding the little Hawaiian to his chest. "Why are you here?" he thought aloud.

Sighing, the little women replied, "I got caught with some letters I was suppose to deliver to Paul."

The elder pulled away. His face was full of emotions, betrayal, sorrow, and surprise all at once. "Who's Paul?" he inquired slowly, not sure if he even wanted the answer.

Laughing shortly, Nana rushed into the story of her years since Egypt. Of the magdalene fields, Peter and Josh, even adding some of Mathew's better jokes. And, as she drew to Josh's last hours, her eyes welled with tears of grief. But those tears went quickly away as she expressed her concern over Josh's return.

The new fledgling was now standing outside the cage, listening along with Jager. "Wow," he said, awestricken, "you must be really old!" Jager and Nana both laughed. If this newbie thought Nana was old, he'd be amazed at Jaeger's years.


End file.
